Edelweiss Leontopodium alpinum
by Astrid Dalgaard
Summary: An AU Fic with Well Know Violinist!Austria and Botanist!Switzerland. What happens when a man on the brink of stardom and a lonley botanist working for his college meet for (maybe) the first time? What happens when the star makes a move on the lonley man's sister? Well that'll never happen. Hopefully, it won't, but otherwise... [ SwissAus fic with implied CanUkr ]
1. Introduction

To clarify, this has nothing to do with the song 'Edelweiss' from the Sound of Music, but just the flower, in general.

* * *

"Fucking shit. Shit." Vash muttered. This was not good. Especially when this was the first workday of the year. He was never late. If you told him that then he'd definitely deny it. Always right on time, never missing a single second. But this time was different. Stuffing his papers and lunch into his bag, he slung it over his shoulder and ran outside, not bothering to lock the door. _It's a closed neighbourhood. It doesn't matter._ He mused.

Vash lived in a small condo near his workplace, the Botanical Garden of the University of Zurich. He enjoyed his work there, he had been working there for a few years, even volunteering since he was a student there. Oh god, it was his love, his life, he didn't think he could ever separate from it. Oh yeah. He was a botanist. He studied flowers, in particular, he knew almost each single species scientific name, if they were nocturnal, every single part to it.

He slammed his car door. Rushing to put the keys in the ignition. He fumbled with them as he finally put them in, pushing his foot on the pedal as fast as he could. A few minutes later, he arrived, getting his bag and running towards the entrance. His past professor was waiting there, she stared at her clipboard, then looked up.

"Aha! подібність." She had said, of course her Ukrainian was not hidden. You could tell by her accent. Her name was Irina. Irina Chernenko. He always loved her name. It has a nice ring, and when she said it in her native tongue, it sounded absolutely gorgeous. Even if she was his past professor, they were still quite close in age, she was 27 years old, and he, 24 years. She often looked at him as the younger brother she wanted.

"I told you not to call me that." He grumbled, putting his bag onto one of the racks inside the small office. "So, am I late?" He asked, tapping his foot a bit too impatiently. This didn't bother Irina. He was always like this. It was cute.

"Right on time, as always." She smiled, hugging the clipboard to her chest, after ticking off what seemed to be the attendance record for him. "Thank god." Vash muttered, wiping his forehead. He sat down on the small couch near the racks. Sighing. "And what am I being assigned today? Please not with that man, what's the name… Feliciano, Vargas? Was it. Oh god, he would not stop rambling on about the beauty of the red poppy. I mean, there are other types, you know." He pointed out, while Irina just giggled.

"Oh no, подібність. You get your own greenhouse to work in today. Actually, all by yourself! I mean, your sister called talking about how much you needed personal space… And I think we already figured out." She laughed again.

Vash was quite surprised. "Really." He stated. Just a simple word. This was the day he was waiting for, the day he could finally get some peace in quiet, and do what he loved the most. He stood up, awkwardly waddling over to Irina, hugging her. "Thank you." He muttered, and teetered back to the rack, taking his bag, as Irina handed him a piece of paper.

"You'll be working on this. The Edelweiss. We just got a batch straight from Meadowlark Botanical Gardens, and I heard very good things about them!" Ah yes. He had visited once. It was calm, peaceful, quiet. The environment was nice, there weren't that many people there, and it was like his solitude. Of course he couldn't dwell on that, he had only been there once. "I heard they were hosting a concert there." He said to himself.

Vash pushed open the door, fresh air hitting his face again, bag in his hands, he walked a few minutes. He arrived at the small dome like greenhouse. His own, for about 2 months, the paper said. _It's enough._ He thought.

Edelweiss, hm? He had never really been interested in it. Yes. He was from Switzerland, and yes, the Edelweiss was what they were known for. But sadly Vash didn't really care. He loved the uncommon species, one from far away mountains, fields, valleys, it was his passion. Edelweiss? Never.

Opening the door, it seemed to have doubled in size. This certain greenhouse was big, but not nearly as big as the others. He set his bag down on the floor, putting on his lab coat and gloves. Desanitizing was the hardest part, but he had been there for 5 years. No biggie.

Inside, there were many specimens. New arrivals, which were all listed on the slip, old ones which he remembered taking care of, and of course, the dreaded Edelweiss. It was just a small patch, of the dainty white flower. He almost wanted to pity it. Alas! It was a flower, but Vash thought of them as humans, took care of them like his children, and knew that if people would see him like this, they'd label him insane.

He bent down to stare at it. It was like childhood memories flooding his head again. He didn't want that. Those memories were already thrown into the trash with the rest of the unwanted thoughts. Sadly, he couldn't stop it. Memories of him and Ludmila picking flowers, them, laughing as she put a flower crown on his head. Quickly, snapping out of it, he stood up, straightening his coat and walking away.

...

Delicately holding the woman's wrist between his hands, Roderich head was close to the woman's neck, those lewd noises coming from her. Of course he didn't love this woman. But without his charm or charisma he feared he would never have become this successful.

"Monsieur Edelstein." A voice called out in the distance. Roderich let go, a smirk on his lips as he slipped away from the woman, leaving her to her dismay. You could call him a playboy, of course. He liked to call it 'strategic planning'.

"Why of course, Matthew." He called out, flinging the curtain and ducking his head to greet the way taller Canadian. His close friend and a conductor, they had similar tastes in everything. Even though he was way younger, the Canadian seemed much maturer than his idiotic brother.

Matthew grinned. They were to be working on an opera, Madame Butterfly. You could hear the chatter of the crowd, the tuning of instruments in the pit.

Kyoto. Her name, the actress. She was to be performing in a few minutes, of course, he knew exactly where she was. "I wouldn't do that her brother is a wealthy business man who is friends with the well known army general."

"What are you talking about." The Austrian said cooly. He straightened his coat, and walked out from the curtains and into the pit. They were both onto his secret, of course, and Roderich knew that he could trust Matthew.

"Oh yes. We're going to Switzerland tomorrow. I need to visit a dear friend of mine." He called out before he walked down the steps, leaving a smile on the Canadians face. _He sure is a mysterious man._ Matthew mused to himself, putting a finger on his chin, but clapping his hands together and walking down towards the pit. Hopefully Ms. Honda could get ready before the opera started.

After the opera had ended, Roderich had went up on stage, bowing. Of course, there was a very large applause, as he was known throughout the world. He was like the next Yo Yo Ma, Beethoven, even Mozart. Yet still he craved more, in the brink of stardom, the only way to be on top, was to lie, steal, and cheat. And that was exactly what Roderich did. "Take these." He told an attendant, taking off his gloves and leaving in the man's hands.

 _On the plane to Switzerland now._ He sighed, leaving towards the exit, his dear friend right behind.

It was going to be a long, long day, for sure. And yet, he was excited about this. Maybe the most he had been in years. For he hadn't seen this friend in a long time, and of course she was very dear to him. Just like his little sister, even.

* * *

подібність - Wellness in Ukranian

Kyoko Honda (Please correct if grammatically wrong) - Nyo!Japan

Yo Yo Ma - A very famous cello player

Please ask me if there are any other questions, thank you. I hope to update with longer chapters, this is just the introduction.


	2. Chapter 1

Vash doubted himself. He ticked off the small box, words near it saying "UV Light" He didn't even know if he could finish this project.

 _That damn flower._ He cursed, clenching his fist and looked down at the few words. "Project: Edelweiss" That flower was such a bore. Why did they even need it? He knew it was very childish to get mad over a single batch of flowers, but they didn't understand. This was his life. He refused to test this scum.

But maybe he was going a bit too far. Irina had told him that since it was a weekday there wouldn't be that many tourists, and it'd be highly unlikely for anyone to visit him while he was doing his project. He made a mental note to thank Irina for everything she had done for him.

 _Why would she care? You're just worthless anyways, bothering everyone around you._ He shook his head. No. He couldn't think like this. It would damage him like it did before.

If only Vash could smoke. He was an addict, he had tried the nicotine patches that she had given him, but it didn't help the urge. The sign on the door clearly said he couldn't, but reaching into his pocket, he found that small pack of cigars. The cheap kind.

He was disgusted with himself. How the hell could he do this? He threw them on the ground in anger, smashing it with his foot, walking away. He could clean up the mess later, he didn't want to face it just yet.

Edelweiss. Hm. Even though he had heard of it, and was very close to them as a child, he still couldn't bear to think about it. It sounded so foreign to him, like a taste on your tongue you couldn't get off. He wanted to scream, but that just pissed him off more.

A ticking time bomb. That's how the Italian described him once when they were working together. That Italian... Was interesting. He would always ramble on about how gorgeous the red poppy was, but there was other flowers, right? Papaver rhoeas, it was called. The symbol in World War I for the dead soldiers at that time. Interesting, very interesting. That Italian would talk as if he had experienced it himself, but still, impossible. It couldn't happen.

Because he couldn't smoke in the gardens, he had resorted to biting his fingernails, which over time made it so his fingernails looked like small stubs and couldn't grow farther than a millimeter. He and Ludmila had tried so hard to figure a way to stop him from this impulsive obsession. Lemon juice, bandages, using gloves (he actually still wore gloves, but it bothered him 90% of the time). None of that worked, despite their best efforts, it never worked, as his fingernails looked ugly as always.

He sat on a small bench, near the center masterpiece, a medium sized fountain with an arrangement of flowers around it, a gift from the donors and students of the University. He donated to this fountain, he wanted to say that he had bought it, but some other people had put in a couple francs, but, he, put in probably 3 weeks of lunch in there. He basically starved after that.

The " _Chatzen-Talpen"_ was still there, near the fountain, guarded by a smaller fence, it was just waiting for Vash to go over to it. It was luring him slowly in, but he had to resist. The project was due next week. He could wait. He was never the procrastinator, but this time, he needed to. His boss wouldn't get mad, besides, he was one of the top in his class. There was no way he could fail this.

Vash got up, and straightened his coat. No. He had to work hard, this project would take a few weeks, and he only had a one month period to complete this. _Ludmila will kill me._ He gritted his teeth, fists still clenched. He walked over to the small section, bending down, his clipboard pressed against his chest. A pencil in his ear, he was serious.

He didn't want to say that his sister had motivated him. He hadn't seen her in years, since they were split, near secondary school, they hadn't talked much, face to face. They talked occasionally on the phone, but he always feared something bad would happen to her, she was fragile, always getting sick, and he wanted to protect her, no matter what. But they were so far apart, it was a 1% chance that she would come, hearing her voice during their last phone call. She sounded much like sick dog. How sad.

Some people might ask why they wouldn't see each other. Well, there was quite a few things. During secondary school, they were only a one grade difference, Ludmila had been very ill, and was taken out and sent to the Centre hospitalier universitaire vaudois, even if they were so close, it still felt like they were days apart. Throughout the years, she was switched through different hospitals, her condition getting much worse. But finally, she recovered. Only a year ago, was she almost back to normal, but that didn't change a thing. Everything was different, their parents, dead, and with their parents money from their will, they couldn't survive long.

And then Vash got his scholarship. That was probably the best moment of his life, with everything he knew, lost, there was finally some kind of hope in the distance. His sister congratulated him, even if she was still very sick, and it made him swell with pride. But unfortunately for her, she couldn't go to any university, even if she did study and catch up on everything.

Now Vash was quite motivated. He got to work, shoveling out the area so he could put more seeds in and clear some space for the newer, blooming buds. He was sure to not miss a single step, after all, he was an expert.

He heard the door creak open, and then shut, very quickly. _It must be Irina._ Vash thought, so he kept on working with the flowers. He didn't want to bother her, maybe she was just inspecting, she did do that from time to time, without telling people, just so they are honest. He didn't care either, it was pretty common and he hadn't came in a few weeks.

As quietly as he could, he kept working on that small flower bed. He heard footsteps, creeping forward. He couldn't help himself and looked up. It was a man. Vash dropped his shovel, and stared.

The man looked down at the crouching Swiss. He sighed, and finally said, his voice quite bold and light. "Guten Morgen." He stated.

Vash rarely spoke to the tourists. Most of them were from out of the country, anyways, and he barely knew a single drop of English. So Vash panicked.

"Guete Morge." He said quickly. Really? Swiss German? Oh god he wanted to slap himself, why the hell did he say something in Swiss German?

The man paused again, now beginning to say something. "You can continue." Vash was embarrassed, he hung his head down, and continued to dig into the soft soil with his shovel. His cheeks were burning, he felt like smoking again.

Oh wait. The cigarette box. The man must have seen it. He smacked himself with his other hand. Now he really wanted to die. It was all his fault for not throwing it away soon enough. Even worse, what if Irina had seen it? Oh god he hoped nothing bad would happen. But like that would become true.

After a very long and awkward moment of silence, the other man cleared his throat. "The... Edelweiss?" Vash kept looking down, so the other man decided that he would take a closer look at the flowers, he also crouched down.

Now Vash had a clearer view of the man. He wore a suit, with a maroon colour. It seemed far too elegant for a garden, much less a Botanical Garden. He wore glasses, a name brand, probably. Quite interesting, it seemed that everything that man was wearing was something that looked more than 1000 Francs.

The other man picked one of the flowers, which made Vash furious. "Hey!" He sputtered, ah, and now he was greatly angered. The man looked at him for a few seconds, and looked down at the flower and twirled it in his fingers

 _It literally states; DON'T PICK THE FLOWERS_. He mentally screamed, his hand clenching the end of the shovel. The man looked at Vash's coat. He had a name tag on it, and it was in French and German. 'Vash Zwingli.' The man stared, and sighed. "Roderich Edelstein." He flatly stated. Why the hell was he telling him this? He didn't even ask for his name? How odd of him, but he wanted to be polite, so he kept on minding his own business.

It seemed like Vash really couldn't keep it in that much longer. "Es duet mr leid- I mean, sorry, Es tut uns leid, but you aren't allowed to pick the flowers…" Wow. That might have been the most words he'd had ever said to a tourist. But the Swiss German words kept getting stuck in his mouth- He really needed to practice his German.

Roderich stood up, handing the small white flower back to him. All the petals were torn off, leaving small yellow clumps of pollen. Vash took it, not even bothering to stand up or look at the man. He didn't even notice that the man had left, without anything or any words.

His eyes twitched. _You come in. You pick the flowers. Then you ruin them._ The corners of his mouth widened. He was going to laugh. Oh god, no one had ever done that before! He couldn't breath, why was he laughing, this was a stranger? I mean he did know his name. 'Roderich' it was? It sounded quite familiar. But that wasn't the case.

Vash went home feeling quite bubbly, like there was only air inside him. There was so many mixed emotions, and just by only a small talk, he became this kind of man. Setting his bag on the floor, he sat down in one of the chairs near the small table where he usually ate. What was he doing? He stood up, going to boil some water so he could make himself some tea.

What was he doing?

* * *

Es duet mr leid/Es tut uns leid - Sorry in Swiss German and German

Guten Morgen/Guete Morge - Good morning in Swiss German and German

Chatzen-Talpen - A Swiss German nickname for the Edelweiss

Please ask if I missed something.


	3. Chapter 2

I'm sorry for the delay! School is a bore and homework is dumb. I should be a poet.

* * *

Vash sat in his living room. Ok. It was a weekend. He could enjoy himself, he didn't even have to go to the Gardens. Actually, he wanted to die. Without his sister, Irina, or his Saint Bernard, Anton (who was still in Liechtenstein with his beloved neighbours), he was all alone and the only thing he could do was bake. And he didn't even want to go to the market to socialize.

So he sat there. Like the perfectly normal human being he was. Or so he thought. He got up, and walked over to where his bag was hanging. You know, he really had no choice. Irina was at work, and he could check up on the Edelweiss. Pft- Not like _he_ wanted to see those wretched flowers.

Before leaving, he took his cellphone out from his pocket. Being the old fashioned man he was, he still had a flip phone. So basically he could only text and call. Wonderful. That was all he ever needed. Maybe he could even call Ludmila. He liked the sound of that. Dialing in her phone number, he put it up to his ear, but not too close, as he thought it would damage his hearing.

He waited a few seconds. Just the endless tone of the beep was all he heard. He hung up, sighing. He guessed Ludmila was up to her own shenanigans again. Hopefully not with her friend… What was her name, Cécile was it? The French girl. Actually, Monegasque, as she had rudefully told him. Like they had a difference.

The last time Vash had seen that ungrateful women, she was with Ludmila, and they seemed to being having quite the time. Except that girl was dragging Ludmila along and making her try on clothes, when she had obviously refused. Vash wanted to crush that girl. But Ludmila and Cécile were friends. He would never hurt Ludmila. Never.

And he was off. Stepping on the gas pedal he was clumsy on the road, almost driving into another lane, he finally made it to the Gardens. Slamming his car door, he didn't even bother to check in, it didn't really matter.

He rushed to his area, of course, it looked the same as always, but Vash felt something different about this. Why? He didn't know. He opened the door and set his bags aside. A few footsteps in, he heard a slight breathing noise. No. It couldn't be. Vash took a deep breath, and walked more, his chest up high.

He was right. There stood- Well, sat the man that he had met yesterday. Oh god, what was his name? Roderick? Roderick Kleinod? Oh well, something like that. Roderick didn't seem to notice Vash, or maybe he just didn't care about him. Still he was turning that small Edelweiss in his hand, slowly, plucking off each individual petal, letting them float in the air, and dropping to the floor to rot.

Vash's heart began to beat, faster and faster. What was so special about this man? Or more importantly, why wasn't he shouting at him? He clenched his fist, his jaw, stiff, and grinded his teeth together, to hold back the urge. Even if he dreaded those Edelweiss, they were still, his flowers, his project, he meant.

Now, this was quite horrible. He just wanted a peaceful day in the gardens? Could he not? Was God this cruel? Oh well. He sat down beside the man, his back slumped, while the other's was straight. You could automatically see the difference between them both.

"You work here?" Roderick asked. Not like he didn't know, of course. But you had to get the chat starting somehow. To be honest he didn't even know if the man could speak, anyways. He waited a tense ten seconds, before Vash piped up. Well- Not piped, you could use another word for that, maybe squeaked? Hm. You really just couldn't describe that noise.

"Of course." He chimed. Yeah. That worked. Vash was nervous. Very nervous. He was nervous in school, taking the tests and all. But somehow, this was the only moment where he wasn't as confident as he'd like to be. Oh well. The man took out off his eyeglasses, a cloth in his hand, cleaning it. It was almost like he really didn't care about what they were talking about.

"So how are you, Herr Zwingli?" he said, still using the cloth to get the dust off the lens. Vash fiddled with his fingers, he desperately needed a cigar. He took of his gloves, picking at his nails. The man watched. "Quite fine actually. But why." It wasn't really a question, more of a statement. His face had now grown serious, a totally different person.

Roderick raised an eyebrow. Why? Well, why did he ask? If he didn't that very second, they could still be sitting in silence for all he cared about "Why- Don't we have to be friendly sometimes?" He smiled to himself. A nice answer. The truth.

A longer silence followed. "Who are you?" Ah, how the Swiss loved to ask questions. He remembered the time when his teacher in secondary school had made him go to the principal's office for asking too many questions. Oh how he hated secondary school.

"You don't know?" A quiet voice said. This was interesting to Roderick. I mean- How could the man not know? He was quite famous, at least that's what he thought. "I- I am Roderich Edelstein. Famous violinist, at your service." He said with no expression, followed by a dull laugh.

oops- it was Roderich, not Roderick. And famous? How Vash doubted it. He put a finger on his chin, quietly muttering to himself, about how familiar this name was. He had heard it once. Once. He forgot where, but it was familiar to him. No- He did not know this man was 'famous', it was like something personal to him. Somewhere locked in with those other forgotten memories.

But that didn't matter now.

A few hours past, while Roderich and Vash sat in the garden together. Technically it was more like Roderich doing the sitting and vash doing all the work. After Vash was done with at least half of his things on his project with the Lilium Longiflorum, he stood up, and prepared to leave. He looked behind him. Roderich had left. Probably a while ago, as he had never heard the door open.

…

Roderich laughed. Oh how the Canadian was with his jokes. "Did I tell you about the man I met today- Herr Zwingli? Oh how divine he was- How flustered! I cannot believe it." If you saw Roderich without talking to him, you'd probably think he was a very peaceful man. In fact, he was snobbish, selfish, and thought highly of himself. Very different from when he was just a child.

"Aha- Monsieur Edelstein, your words delight me! And this man? No wonder he is single. And you are quite sure he is the one?" Roderich nodded his head. "Of course! Same surname, and they look exactly the same. All I have to do is go visit her tomorrow to confirm it."

Both men, with slurred voices laughed in their private booth. Holding glasses with wine, beer, and the assortment. Their driver did not care, as they were soon dumped at their hotel. They slumped onto the bed, their hair messed and both giggling like a fool.

Roderich was very different when he was drunk.

* * *

Cécile - Monaco

Kleinod - Means 'gemstone' in german, Edelstein, Roderich's surname also means that in German, which is why Vash got confused

Herr - Mister


	4. Chapter 3

Ugh- Sorry guys, school sucks, and my writing inspiration is slowly going down. But hey! I got a really short chapter done, so hurray!

* * *

Roderich woke up in a daze. He didn't like the term hangover- too many 'kids' using it these days. It was very unprofessional. Sadly. He was in a hangover. Vomit on the sheets, in the ashtray. Oh how delightful this was. And to think that he had scheduled his date with Ludmila on this exact day. Oh well. He'd just have to do with what was left.

Rising from the bed, Matthew at his side, still moaning, probably having some kind of dream. He didn't want to know about it. He walked over to the bathroom door, slamming it open. "Sohn von einem Weibchen…" He murmured, holding his head and groaning. "Fuck."

Roderich stared at himself in the mirror for a second. He combed it a bit, and his hair just plopped into a perfect position. Amazing. Now all he needed was a fresh suit and tie. How the hell was he going to get that?

Matthew.

Well, Matthew always carried around a bunch of those things, and the hotel surely had an iron somewhere. He scavenged through Matthew's luggage, finally finding something suitable that the tiny girl had ought to like. It wasn't the best, but it would have to do. After all, Roderich's tastes were more on the… Expensive side of things.

Throwing off his clothes and undergarments, changing into something new, the famous musician thought that it'd be a grand time if the girl's brother came. He surely would make everything so amusing.

But how did the Swiss not know? How blind could he be, for they _had_ met before. He had to be hiding it. It was the only possibility, that he could forget, it was a miracle. Roderich decided to not question the probability of this, but just wait for the outcome.

Right after he was done, Matthew began to wake up. He muttered something incoherent, before Roderich closed the door, and left.

…

Vash flipped open his phone. He didn't even have a smartphone. Just those small and cheap flip phones that you could buy from store vendors on the street. He pressed the button for dial, selecting a contact named; "Schwöschter" he heard the small buzz of the phone.

A few seconds passed. Still that annoying buzzing noise. He began to grow impatient with his phone. He flipped it shut. It was no use. She was always busy, it wasn't like she'd pick up her phone. Maybe he could try one last time, just to make sure.

Wow- He really needed to stop hoping. He dialed her phone number again, taking a deep breath. Two buzzes. Two buzzes past before Ludmila picked up her phone, carefully pressing the green icon. "Ja?" A small, limp voice said into the phone.

Vash hesitated for a moment. "L-Ludmila…?" He said nervously. Don't blame him, he hadn't talked to her for about 3 months. "Ah- Vash? Is that truly you?" She exclaimed, a muffled giggle coming from the telephone. "I'm sorry Vash- I wish I could talk more, but I seem to have a guest over…" And that was all before Ludmila hit the 'end' button.

Or that's what she thought.

Vash stood for a moment, holding his phone to his ear. He could still hear the chimes of his sister, but there was another voice in the background. A man. But wait- The voice, he recognized it. Where had he heard it before? Wait. Was it. Impossible. They didn't even know each other!

Thankfully, Vash had a quick (but stupid) mind. He just stayed on the phone. He was silent, of course, but he looked quite funny, holding the small and bulky flip phone to his ear, just dumbfounded. It was the first time he had heard Ludmila's voice in months, and yet, he was getting the sounds of a teaparty between that _abschaum_ …

Without really thinking, Vash walked outside, slammed open his car door, and forcefully put the keys in the ignition. Thankfully, he knew where Ludmila lived. If he hadn't, then that would be a totally different story. There was a choice now. One, he could wait it out, I mean, he wasn't certain that this was the voice, but the again. Second, he could go and check on Ludmila. He was dying to, anyways.

And so he chose option two, being the insane man he was.

After arriving, he was marveled to see how big Ludmila's house was. His parents had always favored her. He knew that, he hated it. But he couldn't despise the only family member he loved and cherished. It was much bigger than the small pictures on his phone. Way much bigger.

His hand slightly hovered next to the knocker. Would he really dare? Oh well, it didn't matter anymore. He grabbed the knocker harshfully, bring it down on the wood door with such force, he had to step back a bit.

You could sense the silence. The chatter in the room had stopped, and Vash began to nervously rub his hands. At least he wasn't chewing his fingernails. Finally, after what seemed like an hour, the door opened ever so delightfully, that Vash took a deep breath.

"Vash- Wait, Vash!" Ludmila first whispered, but her voice was then overcome with joy. She kept into his arms, smiling. It was a sweet moment, but he really wasn't accustomed to these ordeals. He stuttered, tripping over his words.

"Yes- L-ludmila?" He muttered. "Hello." So much for being so excited to see your sister. Maybe it was only because he was letting the smaller girl squeeze all the oxygen out of him. Trying to pry his sister of himself, he caught a glimpse of the interior of the villa.

It was magnificent. It looked almost like the home they used to live in back in their hometown, and so many memories were brought back up. Photos of the two lively siblings were hung on the wall, and floral wallpaper was plastered on every room possible.

And then _that_ man. That bastardly, ugly, disgusting, revolting man. He finally remembered why. He finally understood why he had that awkward feeling when they met. And he hated the feeling. Despised it.

And that's why he broke free of his sister's grip, and marched towards the innocent looking gentleman that was quietly sipping his tea.

* * *

Sohn von einem Weibchen - Son of a bitch

Abschaum - Scum


End file.
